


One Day

by shampoo153



Category: The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2018-01-02 13:53:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shampoo153/pseuds/shampoo153
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just one day in the life of young Quasimodo and Frollo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Day

Frollo calmly walked down the winding streets to Notre Dame, with a picnic basket of water and food upon his arm. It was lunch time and, as was his daily duty, he brought food to his young ward; the disfigured Quasimodo. At breakfast, lunch, and dinner he would bring food and drink to his ward and they would review previous lessons at breakfast and lunch, while he would introduce new material at dinner.

Frollo sniffed as he passed several gypsies on his way to Notre Dame. Some days he took the carriage and other days he walked.

Suddenly he saw a baker waving dessert for sale and he hesitated only a moment before buying the treat and quickly moved on before vendors got it into their heads that he was interested in buying more things he didn't need.

Walking into Notre Dame, Frollo saw the Archdeacon and stiffened when the man gave him a heavy gaze. He was not neglecting his duties to Quasimodo, so why was the man looking at him as if the troubles in the boy's life were his fault?

' _Are they not? Mea culpa, the boy has no family.'_

Then the boy would've lived life as a filthy gypsy. Frollo paused on his way to the bell tower, suddenly stunned by the pure anger that the thought of Quasimodo _associating_ with gypsies stirred inside of him. He never felt strongly in anything but his convictions, so why? Returning to his walk, Frollo mused upon his feelings, feeling odd flashes of uncertainty.

Being in the bell tower, Frollo was shaken from his musings as he heard Quasimodo speaking, probably to the gargoyles he had a tendency to talk to. _'I really must speak to the boy about that one day, but he is young still. I shall let it be for now.'_

"Good morning, Quasimodo." He declared as he made his way towards their dining table. Frollo had not made much use of his kitchen and table at home as he usually took his meals with Quasimodo in the bell tower.

"G-good morning, Master!" Quasimodo's bright voice greeted as he ran down the steps. Frollo was about to chastise him about running when Quasimodo suddenly grabbed a beam below him and threw himself down to the table. Frollo felt his throat freeze and chest tighten, "Look, Master! I can climb the beams now without falling! I tried to do it for a long time, but I kept falling and didn't want to show you until I got it right!" Quasimodo smiled at him as he rushed out his explanation.

"Q-Qu-" Frollo quickly clenched his jaw as he tried to order his thoughts. Suddenly his mouth was working without him, "Quasimodo, I never want to see you doing something so _foolish_ again, do you hear me!" He didn't really know when he grabbed Quasimodo, but he didn't care. His mind, meticulous and clever, quickly put together that Quasimodo must've been practicing and hurting himself when he wasn't there. "What if you have fallen? What would you have done if I wasn't there to assist you!"

Quasimodo was stunned into silence by Frollo's anger. He had been working hard for about a year, trying to get the beam work right so he could show Master Frollo. He wanted Master Frollo to be proud of him for _something_ , seeing as Master Frollo was the only one who did things for _him_.

Frollo sighed, seeing Quasimodo's anxiety and fear as being so roughly addressed. Frollo may lose his temper and take it out on Quasimodo from time to time, but he so rarely raised his voice at Quasimodo. "Quasimodo, I am not angry with you." He brushed Quasimodo's hair gently to convey his reasoning, "I do not like the thought of you throwing yourself around like that and getting hurt. Do not do it anymore."

Quasimodo looked at him curiously, contemplation clear in his eyes even after the obligatory, "Yes, Master."

They went along lunch in the fashion now familiar with them, with Frollo reviewing numbers with Quasimodo. It was as Frollo stood and placed the book back into the basket that Quasimodo spoke up, "Master?"

"Yes, Quasimodo?"

"Were you worried?"

Frollo paused and regarded Quasimodo, "Your well-being is my responsibility" he said stiffly.

He didn't fully understand Quasimodo's bright smile, "So you got upset because you don't want me to be hurt, right? You really care about me!"

Frollo stiffened, "Good afternoon, Quasimodo." He refused to entertain the thought of caring for the disfigured little monster. Quasimodo kept smiling as he followed him to the entrance of the bell tower. Suddenly, in the entrance way, Frollo stopped and turned to Quasimodo, who looked at him in askance.

"You're a good boy." Frollo said stiffly as he handed Quasimodo a roll of bread and walked out before Quasimodo could react.

Stunned, Quasimodo inspected the roll and was delighted to see the flecks of raisins, nuts, and honey-glaze on top. Taking a small bite from it, he was pleased to taste that it was a sweet and crunchy, ridiculously so.

"Thank you, Master." He said to thin air as he smiled at his gift. Master really _did_ care about him! He said so himself! _'Does Master love me, too?'_ he thought, before smiling at his gift. Master wanted him safe and even gave him sweet bread! Surely Master loved him as much as he loved Master!

"You are good to me, Master!"

* * *

Frollo quickly walked out of Notre Dame, wondering what had possessed him to get the cake for the boy and what had possessed the boy to say such things.

' _He is deformed. He is ugly, I have no care for a monster like him.'_ Trying to think along these lines, Frollo recalled his anxiety over the thought of Quasimodo hurting himself and his anger at the correlation of Quasimodo with gypsies.

Quietly mulling over his thoughts and feelings for the day, a sudden mental image of Quasimodo's bright smile and optimistic eyes finalized his conclusions. He was angry about gypsies because Quasimodo was the most innocent boy  
 _'of mine'_  
that was to be untouched by the filth of the world.

' _What would I do if my innocent, pure, ward were to become entangled and corrupted by the filth of the world?'_ Frollo did not dwell on that thought, it would never happen. Quasimodo would be in the bell tower.

Thus reaffirmed, Frollo went about his business, resolutely shaking out any whispers of ' _love_ ' for the young boy named Quasimodo.


End file.
